I saw this in the paper in the summer and have been trying to figure out the reason. Now I know.
Annaz Red Wine Table
I made this table which is inspired by red wine / port casks. It is also treated with an organic wood stain mixed with red wine so that when more wine is spilt on it, it will enhance the table even more. Win Win.
I'll be working from the toilet today
The average office desktop holds 400 times more bacteria than the average office toilet seat. Make sure you wash your hands and keep your work area clean. [source: Market Wire].
To prove a point, today Colin Hart and Kevin Rathgeber will be working from the men's toilet on 17. Come say hello if you get a chance. Check out their office.
With the flu season approaching and the reporting that we continue to hear about the H1N1 virus, there are some basic precautions that we need to take to ensure that we protect ourselves, our families and our work environment.
Widely recognized by health authorities, proper hand-washing is the single, most effective method of preventing the spread of illness. The use of hand sanitizers appears to be a good alternative or supplement. You will recall that we placed a number of hand sanitizers on all floors early this year. In walking around it appears, that they are still quite full in some areas and have not had to be replaced - yet. Please use them.
Many surfaces commonly touched by individuals such as office equipment, key boards, telephones, door handles, are not part of the building cleaning service so again we encourage all staff to personally pick up some wipes that you will find in your area for cleaning your equipment.
Brian O'Driscoll is an air hostess.
In his spare time when he isn't being amazing at rugby, he is working the trolley dolly isles of Air New Zealand. A bit like Julian Simmons used to do for British Midland before he hit the highs of introducing Coronation street full time.
Jenni-talias birthday cakes
A red velvet vagina cake made by baked by Anna and decorated by us both for Jenny Taylor's (Jennytalia's) Birthday and the sequel in the form of the other genitalia.
Belfast Poem
This blog is mainly about me putting up things that I have done but I read this and it described Belfast so well that I have to post it.
BELFAST
I'll speak to you dear stranger, if you really want to know
So listen and I'll tell you why I love this city so . . . .
BELFAST is an Ulsterman with features dour and grim
It's a pint of creamy porter and a Sunday morning hymn
It's a grimy little café, where they serve you dainty teas
It's fish and chips in paper or vinegar with peas
It's a banner on July the Twelfth, a sticky candy apple
A righteous little gospel hall, a Roman Catholic chapel
It's a ' Tele ' boy with dirty face, a piece of apple tart
A fry upon a Saturday or coal ' breek' on a cart.
It's a corporation gas man, complete with bowler hat
It's a wee shop at the corner, a friendly bit of chat
It's an ' oul ' lad in a duncher, a woman in a shawl
A pinch of snuff, a tatie farl, a loyal orange hall
A tobacco smell in York Street, a bag of yellow man
It's an Easter egg that's died in whin, a slice of Ormo pan
A youngster with some sprickly backs inside an ' oul ' glass jar
It's a meeting at the Customs House, or an ' oul ' Victorian bar.
It's mudbanks on the Lagan, when the tide is running low
It's a man collecting refuse, bonfires on Sandy Row
It's a bag of salty dullis, a bowl of irish stew
A goldfish bought in Gresham Street, a preacher at a queue
It's a portrait of King Billy upon a gable wall
A flower seller on a stool outside the City Hall
A half-moon round a doorstep, a ' polisman ' on guard
A pedlar crying "delph for regs", a little whitewashed yard.
It's a market on a Friday, the ships lined at the docks
It's a shiny polished fender, a bunch of green shamrocks
It's herrings fried in oaten meal, with a drink of buttermilk
It's a snowy linen hanky, as soft as finest silk
It's a bap with country butter, a dander round the zoo
A climb up Ben Madigan to get a splendid view
It's a bunch of savoury scallions, a plate of buttery champ
A hopscotch on the footpath, a swing around the lamp.
It's delph dogs on the mantelpiece, the wee man from the Pru
It's a chimney sweep on a bicycle, coming to do the flue
It's an ever present vista of the hills of Castlereagh
It's the deathly hush on Saturday, when Linfield plays away
It's "By Killarney's Lakes and Fells" on the bells of Assembly Hall
It's spiky broken bottles, stuck on the backyard wall
It's bacon boiled with pamphrey, served when piping hot
With Comber spuds like balls of flour, cracked laughing in the pot
It's the smell of Mansion polish on the lino in the hall
The Sunday School excursion, a treat for one and all
It's the island men who build great ships, that take us far to sea
It's the S D Bell's in Ann Street, where they sell the best of tea
It's friends home from America, who have you thinking long
The Salvation band on Sunday, to save the singing throng
It's a wee walk up the Lisburn Road and back by the Malone
It's the Albert Clock in High Street with it's rich and mellow tone.
And there's your answer, stranger, and now I'm sure you'll see
Why Belfast is the only place in all the world for me.
I don't know who wrote it and it's probably really famous, but its description is 'Bang On Big Lad'
BELFAST
I'll speak to you dear stranger, if you really want to know
So listen and I'll tell you why I love this city so . . . .
BELFAST is an Ulsterman with features dour and grim
It's a pint of creamy porter and a Sunday morning hymn
It's a grimy little café, where they serve you dainty teas
It's fish and chips in paper or vinegar with peas
It's a banner on July the Twelfth, a sticky candy apple
A righteous little gospel hall, a Roman Catholic chapel
It's a ' Tele ' boy with dirty face, a piece of apple tart
A fry upon a Saturday or coal ' breek' on a cart.
It's a corporation gas man, complete with bowler hat
It's a wee shop at the corner, a friendly bit of chat
It's an ' oul ' lad in a duncher, a woman in a shawl
A pinch of snuff, a tatie farl, a loyal orange hall
A tobacco smell in York Street, a bag of yellow man
It's an Easter egg that's died in whin, a slice of Ormo pan
A youngster with some sprickly backs inside an ' oul ' glass jar
It's a meeting at the Customs House, or an ' oul ' Victorian bar.
It's mudbanks on the Lagan, when the tide is running low
It's a man collecting refuse, bonfires on Sandy Row
It's a bag of salty dullis, a bowl of irish stew
A goldfish bought in Gresham Street, a preacher at a queue
It's a portrait of King Billy upon a gable wall
A flower seller on a stool outside the City Hall
A half-moon round a doorstep, a ' polisman ' on guard
A pedlar crying "delph for regs", a little whitewashed yard.
It's a market on a Friday, the ships lined at the docks
It's a shiny polished fender, a bunch of green shamrocks
It's herrings fried in oaten meal, with a drink of buttermilk
It's a snowy linen hanky, as soft as finest silk
It's a bap with country butter, a dander round the zoo
A climb up Ben Madigan to get a splendid view
It's a bunch of savoury scallions, a plate of buttery champ
A hopscotch on the footpath, a swing around the lamp.
It's delph dogs on the mantelpiece, the wee man from the Pru
It's a chimney sweep on a bicycle, coming to do the flue
It's an ever present vista of the hills of Castlereagh
It's the deathly hush on Saturday, when Linfield plays away
It's "By Killarney's Lakes and Fells" on the bells of Assembly Hall
It's spiky broken bottles, stuck on the backyard wall
It's bacon boiled with pamphrey, served when piping hot
With Comber spuds like balls of flour, cracked laughing in the pot
It's the smell of Mansion polish on the lino in the hall
The Sunday School excursion, a treat for one and all
It's the island men who build great ships, that take us far to sea
It's the S D Bell's in Ann Street, where they sell the best of tea
It's friends home from America, who have you thinking long
The Salvation band on Sunday, to save the singing throng
It's a wee walk up the Lisburn Road and back by the Malone
It's the Albert Clock in High Street with it's rich and mellow tone.
And there's your answer, stranger, and now I'm sure you'll see
Why Belfast is the only place in all the world for me.
I don't know who wrote it and it's probably really famous, but its description is 'Bang On Big Lad'
Cursor design
I am working on a project involving cursors and this is what happened for no apparent reason whatsoever but it looks cool.
Michael Jackson is Alive
He only took about 3 days more than Jesus to rise again. Also he is now a she and he/she lives is Chilliwack, BC. and likes white water rafting and Smirnoff Ice.
The FABEL
It's a foot stool / coffee table. It took about 5 months and a lot of patience. Walnut wood is amazing.
Reality Blog
I went out with a small reality blog to see if people who had picked up the idea of blogging on the computer could translate it to 3D paper and pen. The question was posed 'Are computers dictating the way we socialise?' Apart from the loads of spam that were introduced it seemed to work out quite well.
The Troubles
It’s been worrying over the past few weeks to see what has been happening here in Vancouver. Shootings during the day in public areas, brutal murders in the city and tension throughout the city. It is a tough time and certainly a troubling one. Listening to the news provokes feelings in me from years ago not unlike hearing a song on the radio that reminds you of a holiday or someone special. The only problem is that my feelings are neither good or special.
Growing up in Belfast as a child wasn’t a horrible experience, I was a child born in to the violence and had never experienced life without it. I was never in the midst of the troubles either, I lived in the suburbs in a quiet place. I wasn’t allowed to go into Belfast by myself until I was 18. When I did go in to town it was always with my parents and after the various police car checks, parking checks and bag checks you’d manage to get some shopping done amongst the heavy police and army presence. At the back of my mind was always the chance that there would be a shooting, bomb scare or even scarier, a bomb.
It is difficult to imagine what this was like, it was complicated and disruptive but more importantly it was worrying and dangerous but in my head it was ‘just the way it was’.
I always had issues with the word ‘Troubles’ as they were coined by the media. It was as if it wasn’t a religious war with brutal murdering or indiscriminate mass killings, it was just ‘a bit of trouble’ like someone having a fight in the school playground. I wish it had been just a bit of trouble, every city has a bit of trouble but to call a war of this scale ‘trouble’ was an injustice in itself.
When you took away the religious aspect of the ‘Troubles’ it was simply two groups of people (protestant and catholic) who were in a turf war and they were willing to do anything to get their way. The resulting consequence was a fearful public, worried parents and lack of freedom in general.
The way I have been feeling recently living in Downtown Vancouver is that there is a real comparison to the ‘Troubles’ except here it is a gang war, not a religious war. They may not be bombing each other but the people running around using their guns with as little ‘give a shit’ as answering their phone or going to a movie. They are not worried about public bystanders walking along burning their lip on their coffee or the person trying waiting for their dog to do its business. Innocent people seem to be seen as moving obstacles in the way of the gang’s target.
I know that there is a big difference between the two places and the context is completely different but when does it become similar, do the people of Vancouver have to wait until over 5000 people have been killed and 25 years of horrible violence to have the gang war coined as ‘The Troubles’, at what point is innocence lost and violence becomes a way of life?
So what is going to happen in the future? The problem in Northern Ireland was the spiraling aspect of the violence. People are generally quite understanding about differences in opinion but when someone you love or are close to is murdered then you become much less open to other people’s views. They said that for every person murdered in Northern Ireland there would be 300 people directly affected, 20 people who would be actively motivated to assist the relevant cause and 3 people who would be willing to get a gun and kill someone. Each murder was a recruitment campaign and the result was a spiraling of anger and hatred between two opposed communities.
Another issue then arises when the communities see so much violence that they become desensitized to the brutality. The types of crime that are committed continue to grow and newer, more brutal ways are figured out by these criminals to get a more effective way to hit the opposing gangs where it hurts.
Thankfully there is a solution, there is an answer, I don’t know what it is but it has been solved in other, more complicated situations and has to be solved here too before it spirals, recruits and grows to leave a community split, fearful, people and children so desensitized to ‘The Troubles’ that it becomes just another article on just another blog that will be forgotten by the time they click onto the next persons rant.
Growing up in Belfast as a child wasn’t a horrible experience, I was a child born in to the violence and had never experienced life without it. I was never in the midst of the troubles either, I lived in the suburbs in a quiet place. I wasn’t allowed to go into Belfast by myself until I was 18. When I did go in to town it was always with my parents and after the various police car checks, parking checks and bag checks you’d manage to get some shopping done amongst the heavy police and army presence. At the back of my mind was always the chance that there would be a shooting, bomb scare or even scarier, a bomb.
It is difficult to imagine what this was like, it was complicated and disruptive but more importantly it was worrying and dangerous but in my head it was ‘just the way it was’.
I always had issues with the word ‘Troubles’ as they were coined by the media. It was as if it wasn’t a religious war with brutal murdering or indiscriminate mass killings, it was just ‘a bit of trouble’ like someone having a fight in the school playground. I wish it had been just a bit of trouble, every city has a bit of trouble but to call a war of this scale ‘trouble’ was an injustice in itself.
When you took away the religious aspect of the ‘Troubles’ it was simply two groups of people (protestant and catholic) who were in a turf war and they were willing to do anything to get their way. The resulting consequence was a fearful public, worried parents and lack of freedom in general.
The way I have been feeling recently living in Downtown Vancouver is that there is a real comparison to the ‘Troubles’ except here it is a gang war, not a religious war. They may not be bombing each other but the people running around using their guns with as little ‘give a shit’ as answering their phone or going to a movie. They are not worried about public bystanders walking along burning their lip on their coffee or the person trying waiting for their dog to do its business. Innocent people seem to be seen as moving obstacles in the way of the gang’s target.
I know that there is a big difference between the two places and the context is completely different but when does it become similar, do the people of Vancouver have to wait until over 5000 people have been killed and 25 years of horrible violence to have the gang war coined as ‘The Troubles’, at what point is innocence lost and violence becomes a way of life?
So what is going to happen in the future? The problem in Northern Ireland was the spiraling aspect of the violence. People are generally quite understanding about differences in opinion but when someone you love or are close to is murdered then you become much less open to other people’s views. They said that for every person murdered in Northern Ireland there would be 300 people directly affected, 20 people who would be actively motivated to assist the relevant cause and 3 people who would be willing to get a gun and kill someone. Each murder was a recruitment campaign and the result was a spiraling of anger and hatred between two opposed communities.
Another issue then arises when the communities see so much violence that they become desensitized to the brutality. The types of crime that are committed continue to grow and newer, more brutal ways are figured out by these criminals to get a more effective way to hit the opposing gangs where it hurts.
Thankfully there is a solution, there is an answer, I don’t know what it is but it has been solved in other, more complicated situations and has to be solved here too before it spirals, recruits and grows to leave a community split, fearful, people and children so desensitized to ‘The Troubles’ that it becomes just another article on just another blog that will be forgotten by the time they click onto the next persons rant.
The dogs don't want the charity.
The brief was to do an installation on the underside of a table in a public place.Title: Congratulations
Medium: Cash
Date: 15th Feb.
This money has been sitting here for over a month now. It is stuck, unnoticed and free.
GOOD LUCK HUNTING
BBB is the new KKK
In Tofino this weekend I uncovered a horrible truth that the KKK has moved and relocated there. Instead of inflicting their biggotry on people they have started to hang bouys. It was horrible. They abduct them, number them and hang them. What a horrible place. However, the scenery is amazing.
You just have to look to find where your cheeky pot of gold is.
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